


Find Fun in Tutoring

by orphan_account



Category: Welcome to Hell - All Media Types
Genre: AU, Boyfriends, But he is in bed AHAHAHAHAHA, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Mephi is the opposite of a cockblock, Smut, Sock isn't a demon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-06
Updated: 2015-10-06
Packaged: 2018-04-25 02:46:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,780
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4943719
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jonathan Combs isn't the brightest in class. No matter what he tries, he just can't do it. His teacher recommends a tutor - and with a cute, outgoing boy with a lot more to offer, and a creepy Librarian monitoring him whenever he walks in - he may have more coming to him than he signed up for.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Find Fun in Tutoring

**Author's Note:**

> Hey! My first fic on here! Thank you to my cute friend, Jess, for the idea! This is a gift fic for you! The summary is crap but I worked really hard on this. Comments would be appreciated! Thanks guys!

_  
“Another F, Jonathan. I’m extremely disappointed.”_

_Though the words weren’t stern, nor harsh, they still cut through Jonathan’s apathetic demeanor like a knife into bread; had his face burn shamefully, eyes dropping onto his paper, looking to the dark, red mark above his name - reading ‘58’, this time, without a ‘see me’ tacked at the end of it. Jonathan supposed, in one way, having his teacher all but give up on him should have been assuring. However, it had his shoulders sag and his eyebrows furrow. He wouldn’t admit it, but being given up on, even by an old, shrill teacher, kind of sucked._

_Honestly, he couldn’t help it. He tried to study (sometimes) but nothing ever worked for him. He tried retaking tests, doing even worse most of the time. Hell, he even tried cheating, but no one in his class was insanely bright - and they typically moved away from him, anyhow. It’s not like the blonde was a delinquent, honestly. He just didn’t like talking - didn’t like people._

_Not even that. He just didn’t care._

_And, of course, grades were one of the things he couldn’t find himself to care about. Before now. The bell went off, piercing ears as the students poured out of the classroom, like they had been set out of prison. In a way, they really had._

_Sheepishly, Jonathan had approached his teacher - dragging his feet against the hard floor, head ducking as she peered up at him disdainfully from her small, crooked glasses. There had been an uncomfortable pause, as he readjusted his bag around his shoulders. His tongue darted out past his lips to wet them, idly, as he dared himself to speak - even to his teacher, he was unsure of what to say. He had taken a deep breath, rocking back on the heel of his converse, voice coming out slow, and unsure; “I’d like to get some extra help,” he blinked and added on, politely, “ma’am.”_

_She had told him she couldn’t stay after school with him, and his confidence shattered, face falling helplessly - that is, until she raised a finger to continue. “However,” She drawled, carelessly, as she slammed her notebook closed, “I do have a student giving help in the library, after school.” The teacher must have been able to sense his hesitance, because she went on; “You have to deal with it, Mr. Combs, as some of your best helpers can be your peers. He’ll be there by three thirty-five, sharp.” It was like she spit out the world, ‘sharp’._

_Jonathan had reluctantly agreed, but a light wave of panic rocked throughout him. Knowing his luck, he’d be stuck with Melto, and he couldn’t have that. So stopped her from leaving with a final question - of the identification of just who would be the student helping him. Her eyes had flashed, pleasantly, and her scowl softened into one of consideration. Her tight lips melted into a smile; the first one Jonathan had seen her give. It was with a gentle, contented voice, that she had answered him, eyes meeting her students without missing a beat._

__**“Napoleon Sowachowski.”**  
  
\--  
Jonathan Combs clutched his books against his chest, with one tightened arm, the other lazily tossed into the pocket of his hoodie; his eyes raked over the near-secluded library, standing in place as he searched, for the student that was supposed to be his tutor for the afternoon. He didn’t exactly get any help from his teacher when he had asked who to look for - just a simple laugh of “you’ll know”. 

The blonde idly wandered across the room, gaze not dropping once. Social anxiety was something he’d dealt with for a while, now - it wasn’t extreme by any means, but enough to have him stand there, dumbly, as if he was to be approached by the tutor who probably didn’t even know he was coming. 

It was probably just a bad idea. Before he could turn on his heels, and book it out of there, there was a loud, clear of the throat, and his head snapped to the side, eyes piercing into the golden ones of the librarian behind the desk.

Slender arms balanced on the desk by the elbow, hands raised and holding his chin, the librarian had looked Jonathan over in amusement; fiery hair sticking out from the side, meeting his goatee in a sharp, symmetrical pattern, lips spread out across his face. All teeth showing, eyes crinkling from the sides with such mischief it had a shudder rack through Jonathan’s body - idly noting the name tag on the edge of the widespread desk - ‘Mephistopheles’. 

“Can I help you?” The voice was friendly, dripping with an accent Jonathan just couldn’t place his finger on. The blonde sputtered, dumbstruck, his cheeks heating in embarrassment at his inability to answer right away. He swallowed, hands tightening around his textbook protectively, looking back at the man and nodding curtly in response. 

“Yeah. Yeah, that’d be great - I’m looking for a Napoleon Sowachowski?” The name had the Librarian, Mr. Mephistopheles, brighten in an instant. It nearly annoyed Jonathan, how just the name of this student had both his teacher and this intimidating administrator to grin. Who the hell was this kid?  
Jonathan jumped as the man’s hands slammed down onto the desk, using it as leverage to jerk his chair back, rolling toward the staircase, that shot up from the back of the desk. He held up his hand, asking for patience, and tilted his head back. With another lazy clear of throat, the man parted his lips calmly, before all but shouting up the staircase - “Hey, Sock! Got an admirer for ya, buddy!” If the male wasn’t so intimidating, and looked like he could summon a demon from hell at any moment, Jonathan would have reminded him that they were in a library.

“Sock?” Jonathan questioned, without acknowledging the loud demeanor, or use of ‘admirer’. Mephistopheles had shot a smug smile, thin eyebrows raising in mock surprise. “What’sa matter, kid? Ain’t never heard of a nickname, before?” “It’s weird, is all.” “You tellin’ me you wouldn’t go by somethin’ else if your name was Napoleon?” That shut the blonde up, considering he couldn’t really argue. The silence between them was heavy and uncomfortable - at least for the student. Mephistopheles seemed pretty content with himself, his gaze not once faltering from the boy’s face.

Eventually, there was a soft, chirp of a reply, following the pitter-patter of steps down the stairs. “I’m here, sir! What’s up?” Both of them had turned to look in the direction of the voice, though they had considerably different reactions. Mephistopheles simply nodded in greeting, jerking his thumb in the direction of the blonde. “Someone lookin’ for ya, kid, go see what he wants, yeah?” Sock had blinked and his eyes moved to meet Jonathan’s. Jonathan’s breath caught in his throat. 

This kid was not at all what he was expecting. A round, boyish face, with wide, bright green eyes that stared right into him, making him feel naked - vulnerable. A warm, fond smile spread across his face, dusted with freckles. Most of his hair was hidden, underneath his trivial hat, but brunette locks could be seen peeking out from underneath and curving up, just as wildly as the matching of his outfit.

Ripped jeans, under a snug fitting skirt (a fucking skirt), sweater vest tossed over a blue shirt, and a scarf hanging loosely against his chest. This guy - ‘sock’ - didn’t even dress like he was old enough to be going to school with him, let alone tutoring him in math. Yet, there was something noticeably radiating about him. Stunning. 

And then he opened his mouth.

“Hey! You must be Jonathan!” The boy exclaimed, all but hoping over the desk to thrust his hand forward, expectantly. “Your teacher came to talk to me! A fifty eight in math, huh? That has to suck!”

Jonathan decided he didn’t like him.

Awkwardly, there hands met, and Jonathan tried to pull away quick as he could. Sock wasn’t having that, though. He squeezed the paler boy’s hand, shook firmly, and then released him after a pleasant smile overtook his own face. “It’s great to meet you, Jon!” “-Athan.” “Huh?” “My name’s Jonathan,” The elder of the two reminded him, but the grin plastered over the boy’s face didn’t fade. It was foreign, and concerned him, when Jonathan’s stomach churned slowly, seemingly tickling him internally, leaving him unfazed - but giddy.

“Alright, Jonathan!” Sock chirped, clasping his small, sunkissed hands together. “What do you say we get started?” The pure eagerness and hints of adoration, even, dripped heavily from the boy’s voice, eyes glistening with such enthusiasm, Jonathan felt his face burn hotter, brighter. There was no way this would be a good idea. 

Jonathan, briefly, considered running. 

“C’mon, then, buddy! Let’s bring out the best in you!”

\--

Jonathan would never voice it out loud, but Napoleon - Sock - was actually the most intelligent kid he had spoken to in his life.

Sock would ramble about nonsense, sometimes, sure, but when they got focused and Jonathan had finally grown comfortable enough to ask questions, the boy’s dainty wrists would be flipping all over to write down equations, answers, and clever ways on how to remember each and every thing he’d learned. 

Studying, for once, was fun. Sock would laugh, his head tossed back and shoulders shaking genuinely whenever Jonathan would comment warily under his breath - Jonathan would actually crack a smile when Sock congratulated him, and he would feel his insides constrict whenever he accidentally brushed his hand. 

Jonathan learned more than math, throughout the weeks spent together. He’d learned a lot about Sock, too - his favorite color was blue. He liked being outside. He’d killed a few squirrels last month. He didn’t have a favorite music genre - if it was something catchy, that you could dance to, he was into it. Jonathan shared his own music taste, got him into a few new bands. Sock, in turn, had taught him to loosen up - to grin (occasionally), and to be more open minded with trying new things.  
Jonathan was wary and socially awkward. Sock was outgoing and wanted to be friends with everyone. They balanced each other out perfectly. The study sessions would end, and the two would walk home together. Sometimes, Jonathan even invited Sock to hang out in his room. They wouldn’t need to talk. They’d just listen to music and lay back. Sock would tilt his head, and ask if he could sing. Jonathan would nod, and then Sock would go along his best to the music. It was off-key, sometimes, and it was a relatively average singing voice. 

But Jonathan was sure he’d never heard anything so beautiful.

\--

__

“Congratulations, Jonathan.”

__

The teacher’s voice didn’t soften from her usual, stern grumble, but the paper wasn’t slapped onto his desk; rather, placed with nimble fingers, and Jonathan’s jaw almost dropped at the grade scribbled on the top of the test. A circled, ‘89’ was placed toward the top, and the blonde’s chest tightened and his lips curved up the slightest bit.

__

It wasn’t the best, but it was a passing grade. It was a B. The highest grade he’d gotten yet, in that class. He had glanced up, meeting the eyes of his teacher just in time. He smiled - actually smiled - and his eyes glistened with pride. “Thank you.” 

__

She seemed to falter, her eyebrows shooting up in surprise - but she returned the smile, tightly, before moving on to pass out the rest of the papers. 

__

Jonathan’s mind wavered as soon as she passed him, eagerness soon washing throughout him, realizing he couldn’t wait to tell his newfound friend. 

__

\--

The attraction between them was no secret. Jonathan went from keeping a table’s distance across from them, to placing himself right beside him, even going as far as to toss an arm around the boy’s shoulder in the library.

Sock would bring Jonathan a snack almost every study session. Whether it’d be brownies he’d made at the house, or a soda hurriedly bought before they were supposed to meet. Eating in the library was a huge ‘no’, but the librarian didn’t mind when it came to his favorite volunteer; Mephistopheles would just grin and gesture toward the back of the library, where they always sat, hidden away by bookshelves upon bookshelves. He’d watch his favorite student pull the blonde over to their table by the hand, and the elder was always dripping with affection - he never wanted to get in the way. After all, why would he? Jonathan finally had a friend, and Sock finally had a sincere reason to smile. 

Mephistopheles couldn’t take that away.

\--

__

“Good job, again, Jonathan!” 

__

For the fourth time that month, Jonathan was complimented as another graded sheet was placed onto his desk - he beamed, eyes piercing into the large ‘98’ carved into his paper. Again, he’d thank her, and his fingers would trace over the sheet with a contented sigh through his nose.

__

Keeping it up, he was sure he’d pass the class with an A. He had waited for the teacher to walk by, onto the boy behind him, and Jonathan immediately dragged his phone from his pocket - he snapped a quick picture, of his grade, and sent it to his only social contact; ‘Dweeb’, ended with a star beside it (or, as everyone would have guessed, Sock himself). 

__

The reply had been a simple ‘meet me in the library after school’. Jonathan was confused, at first, asking him why, telling them that there were no more tests that much and he could take a break from the study sessions. Sock’s answer had been quick, and as endearing as ever; ‘Because we have to celebrate, duh! Come on Jonathan, I thought I taught you to use your head!  <3’ 

__

Jonathan’s heart fluttered, and no plans had ever sounded better.

__

\--

Jonathan had went to the library, as soon as the bell rang - his chin high, as he was now familiar and comfortable with the whole surrounding. His steps stopped abruptly in front of the redhead’s desk, moving to lean against it - conversation with the elder, too, was now familiar and expected. “Hey.”

“Well, hello there, Mr. Combs,” The man had replied easily, moving forward as he greeted him. “Seeing your lover again today, huh?” The titles had been passed around by the man lazily for a month know, and Jonathan grew used to them - stopped objecting them, even. “Yeah, Sock texted me to meet him here. Is he in?”  
“Of course. Kid’s already where the magic is done,” Mephistopheles had cooed, his eyes shifting behind the bookcases; the kids’ normal spot for studying. Jonathan had brightened considerably, nodding and pushing himself back off the desk. Without even uttering a good-bye, the blonde had turned on his heels to go off toward their usual spot.

He’d slid from behind the bookcase, looking to the emptied table in puzzlement. His friend was nowhere to be found.

The area they had was small; jammed in between books, nearly invisible with the carts surrounding the free space. He had no idea where Sock could have been. Regardless, he approached the table and placed his bag down delicately. Before he could even fully turn around, two skinny arms were tight around his neck and he fell back, hard, into the chair that awaited him against the wall.

“Jonathan! I’m so proud of you! I’m so, so proud of you!” The boy cried into his ear, with a face much resembling a parent, with how much adoration and pride dripped from his smile. Jonathan had chuckled, breathily, moving to lock his arms around the boy’s waist, cradling him against his chest. “Fuck, man, thanks, I didn’t think I could do it, damn.”

Saying it out loud made Jonathan feel, somehow, even better about himself - about the hard work he’d put into this. They both laughed, airily, foreheads combined as the two felt the pure bliss and contentment surround them, engulfing them with shared giggles and closed eye hugs. It had lasted a while, just staying like that, enjoying themselves, before the giddy air around them faded and they took a minute to process their position.

Sock’s dainty, slender hips were pressed into Jonathan’s lap, his thighs and legs kicked out behind him, knees bent toward the chair; his arms tight around his friend’s neck. Jonathan’s own hands were placed on the boy’s sharp hipbones, legs spreading, in invitation for him to stay positioned on his lap. Their eyes were both dropped down in between them, were they were pressed together, and in unison their eyes raked up each other's bodies until an icy blue met a warm green.

There was a silence that had never been so deafening. 

“...You’re really warm, Jonathan.” “Yeah. You, too.” Sock’s ample lip was caught between his teeth, unsure and unmoving. Jonathan’s hands were just the same, cautiously running up and down the boy’s hip. They both knew what was to happen - but neither wanted to be the one to move. 

It wasn’t until Sock, with a shudder racking through his body, had released an anxious breath as Jonathan squeezed his hips, that they moved.

It was desperate, wanton, and wet. Their lips crashed together, and hands roamed bodies as if they had again and again before. Fingers threaded through hair, they breathed into eachother’s mouths, and heads tilted to deep it as far as they could. 

It was messy, obvious neither of them had much experience, but it was perfect. The way Sock squirmed in his lap. The way Jonathan rocked up to keep them pressed completely together. The way they tried to keep silent, as they were in a public place (even if no one ever wandered toward their spot).

And, the way Sock pulled away; eyes half lidded, lips glistening and swollen, a crimson dusting his cheeks as he panted to catch his breath. 

Well… Jonathan was a teenage boy. What was he supposed to?

The blonde’s lips attached to the boy’s lightly tanned neck almost immediately, and the mewl of a moan that ripped from Sock’s throat made his stomach churn pleasantly. Fingers slipped up his sweater-vest, hips grinded down desperately -

“Oh, God, Jonathan, stop, stop.” The blonde froze up, his cheeks burning shamefully as he tore his head back, swallowing hard. “Oh, shit, Sock, I’m so sorry.” “Jonathan-” “Shit, shit, dude, I’m so sorry, I thought-” “Jonathan-” But the blonde wouldn’t stop. His hands dropped and his eyes squeezed shut, and he continued to apologize, blindly, before Sock threw a hand against the boy’s mouth, quieting him down easily. 

“Jonathan,” Sock hissed, waiting until he got his attention. Finally, shoulders dropping, Sock’s lips spread into a soft smile. “It’s not that. I just - I don’t want to, um, do anything, here, you know, if we’re not...?” 

“Oh.” There was a pause, Jonathan’s lips curving up slightly, before he continued, voice barely audible. “You mean, like, together?” Sock sheepishly let his eyes fall to the ground, his expression changing for the better as Jonathan used two fingers to tilt the boy’s rounded chin up. “Hey, c’mon. I wouldn’t have kissed you, if I didn’t like you.” “Really?” “I promise. I’d love to, y’know…” “Be boyfriends?” Sock clarified, his eyebrows shooting up and that beautiful, radiating smile taking over his face again. Jonathan had nodded, in response, and Sock pressed their lips together idly. “That’s great, Jonathan! So, now we can have sex, right!” 

Jonathan’s face faltered considerably, his lips parting to reply - but Sock rolled his eyes, and cut him off. “Gosh, Jonny, you gotta shut up for a little bit. Here,” his hands trailed below the blonde’s belt, palming him idly against his groin, “let me help you, at least.” Sock’s voice was a foreign purr, and his eyes fluttered closed as he moved to crouch down, off the chair - his hands fumbling with the buttons of the boy’s skinny jeans with vigour. 

“Oh.” Jonathan tensed up, his hands clutching at the arms of the chair, his hips lifting in surprise. “Sock, you don’t have to-” “I said shush, dummy.” For once, Jonathan actually listened.  
Before he knew it, an inexperienced, warm tongue was lapping at him through his boxers, causing him to breath out, shakily, his hand dropping to tangle in the boy’s bangs, under his hat. Fingers experimentally hooked into his boxers, pulling them just enough to free his length, and Sock was looking up with mock innocence, lips running up the side of his length, tongue offering kitten licks against the side of his cock.

Jonathan’s hesitance melted away instantly, his lips parting and eyes fluttering closed, his hips twitching upwards eagerly; though his face burned, and he tossed an arm over his own eyes to hide his expression. Warmth ran all along his body, his stomach tightened and the heat seemed to take over everywhere. His cheeks, down his chest, all the way to the warm wet surrounding him. 

Breathy moans, and bucks of his hips - occasionally quiet praises, which Sock seemed to enjoy, if how his mouth worked against him faster was anything to go by. “Fuck, Sock,” Jonathan hissed, his arm dropping to look down at him - almost regretting it by just how delicious the sight against his lap was.

Saliva trailing down the boy’s lips, mouth red and puffed up from the friction against them, normally bright green eyes darkened into a lustful jade. It had another groan tear from the blonde’s throat, followed by, “fuck, right there,” and a push downward of the smaller teen’s head.

Sock swallowed around him, sinfully, his eyes flashing smugly as the other spoke - his own tiny moan escaping as he urged Jonathan to keep talking. The blonde flushed, but complied the best he could. He learned with ease, that the more words falling from his lips, the more attention he got around his cock. “Oh, my God, Sock, that’s so good, fuck, your mouth, so good…” 

Jonathan Combs had never pouted once in his life. Never. But when the brunette pulled himself up, tongue still out lewdly, Jonathan actually pouted for a moment, his hips rolling at the negligence, as if he’d find some friction in the air. “Sock, fuck, what…?” “Come on, Jonny,” Sock murmured, moving to stand - Jonathan’s eyebrows shot up as the boy started tugging at his own jeans. “Why…?” Sock paused, jeans halfway down his thighs, his head tilting to the side. “Don’t you wanna have sex?”

“Here?” Jonathan asked, doubtfully, sure the boy was joking - but the foreign smirk and way he swayed his dainty hips teasingly as he dropped his jeans completely, keeping his skirt hiding what was underneath, told Jonathan other wise. The boy’s tongue brushed out to coat his own fingers, before pulling them both into his mouth fully, to wet them thoroughly.

Jonathan’s response was a breathy, “you’re fucking wild.”

“You love it, though.” 

Sock’s fingers slowly trailed behind himself, and he moved forward to place himself on Jonathan’s lap as he worked him own hand against his entrance, his lips parting in a keen as he rocked his hips back against his fingers. The composure melting from the boy’s face was unlike how Jonathan said seen him before - all innocence and sunshine, and sheepish smiles. But it’s not like it was a bad change.

“Can I ride you?” Sock respired, managing with his eyes half-lidded and his lip caught between his teeth, hips continued to rock forward and back wantonly against his wrist. A growl nearly tore from Jonathan’s throat, and his hands trailed to the back of the boy’s bare thighs, nodding curtly - his eyes crinkling smugly as the brunette practically threw his fingers away from himself, using both hands to hold the arms of the chair, to balance himself.

There was a pause - eyes meeting, and Jonathan offered a soft, small smile, Sock returning it easily. The burnette dropped his forehead down to meet the other’s, their eyes staying connected, even as he sunk himself down, slowly, into Jonathan’s lap. Their breath seemed to hitch in unison, lips straining to capture eachother’s, marveling in the warmth radiating off their bodies. Hands slid up to tangle in hair, as the boy adjusted around him, soft, breathy noises escaping into their kisses. 

Hesitantly, the boy lifted his hips, and dropped himself back down. His jaw slackened and eyes glazed over, pleasantly, and they were gone.

Jonathan’s nails had dug into his hips, his own rolling up hard and fast to meet the boy’s movements, bouncing on his lap as his hands tightened in the blonde locks. The library was quiet besides the low hum of computers running and printers working out papers at an even pace - but in their section, huffs and breathy moans, the quiet nose of skin and skin surrounded them.  
Sock’s head was tilted back, lips puckered slightly as Jonathan’s hold on him tightened, bringing him back against him in a steady rhythm, the boy’s soft pleas, “oh, yeah, harder,” had him grunt and fuck into him harder, with earnest, teeth grazing idly against the boy’s skin. The heat they shared, the near-silent moans pouring from their lips. Jonathan was burning like a flame, his control melting away by the second.

The brunette… Wasn’t quiet, by any means, as they went on. Sock gasped and he whined and he keened and he begged, he continued his movements as his voice shook, with broken praises, “Jonathan, so good, y-you’re so big, fuck, it feels so good, oh, god, please!” Jonathan whispered a ‘sh’ against his throat, face burning as the boy seemed to only respond louder.

“Ahh! Yes! Right there! Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me…” Jonathan’s hands clamped around the boy’s mouth, muffling his cries, biting his own lip hard, as he felt the heat begin to pool in his stomach. His hips continued to jerk against him with vigour, his free hand reaching around to grab Sock’s shaft, moving his hand in time with his thrusts - using the boy’s pre-cum as makeshift lube, smearing it against him. 

“Shit,” Jonathan respired, dropping his forehead against the boy’s chest, “I’m gonna cum, Sock, I’m cumming…” With a grunt, sweat rolling down the side of his bangs, Jonathan thrust once, twice, and he was letting out a heavy moan against the boy’s skin, his hips rolling up and stilling as pleasure rocked through his body, his eyes glazing over and his nails dragging slowly down the boy’s sunkissed skin.

Sock was done, then, too, his back arching as he came hard, in between both their chests, covering Jonathan’s t-shirt as his hips rocked and he bit the boy’s fingers, to push back his prolonged moan. The two breathed heavily, eyes closed, their hands slowly coming down to intwine their fingers together. Their eyes opened, slowly, and they just looked at eachother, briefly. 

Before blue eyes and green eyes glistened, in amusement, and soon they were laughing, pleasantly, against eachother’s lips.

\--

“Hey, babe, ready to go?” 

Sock had looked up from the desk, where he sat beside the Librarian, and he shot up almost immediately, his pencil flinging onto the floor. “Oh, yeah! Sorry! I just lost track of time!” The blonde flashed a grin, tossing his shoulders in assurance. Watching his ‘boyfriend’ (the word still felt weird, but it felt absolutely amazing to say) scramble around to gather his things was endearing as ever - as he threw things in his bag in a frenzy, Mephistopheles’ chuckles replacing the new-found silence.

“You be careful with him, now, kid. He’s been all over the place today,” The redhead warned, playfully, moving to reach around and ruffle the brunette’s hair. Sock had huffed, moving to re-adjust his hat with a pout. “I’m just excited, is all.” 

“Oh, yeah, you must be. Not like you’ve been to my house before.” The sarcastic response coming from the blonde had Sock’s pout further, cheeks burning as both the others watched him in amusement. He slung his bag over his shoulder, dragging his feet to meet his boyfriend - lips curving up into a grin as a lanky arm was slung around his shoulders. “Calm down. I’m kidding.” 

Sock nuzzled into his shoulder as he started to drag him along, turning to offer a wave to his favorite administrator. “Have a good afternoon, Mr. Mephi! I’ll see you, tomorrow!” The Librarian had nodded, smugly, his eyes shifting briefly to Jonathan. There was a look of knowing, that had Jonathan’s blood run cold.

“Sure thing. I take it I’ll see you both.

Just make sure to clean up your ‘mess’ next time, yeah?”


End file.
